The Bathroom in the Sky

by Elana Joy Pera

Sky

It was Christmas weekend and I was on my flight to New York City. Every year I go to Manhattan to visit relatives for the holiday season. Personally, I’m a big fan of airplane rides. I love to look at the clouds below me and count the cities we fly over. The best part though, is the complimentary snack you get. I feel like royalty when the stewardess comes over to me and asks if I’d prefer honey-roasted or lightly salted peanuts. And the cups filled with that roughly textured ice always please me.

There is however, one thing about airplanes that bothers me: The Bathrooms. They’re so small that you can barely sit and if there’s turbulence everything is twenty times more difficult to pursue. This particular year, the first hour into the five-hour long flight, I began to brew the biggest poop of my life. It was so bad that I had to refuse the peanuts I’d been craving for so long. I could feel it building up inside of me and I wanted to get up to use the restroom but my mind sent itself into a tumbling panic. Worst of all, I was at the window seat with two rather large men next to me.

As soon as I realized I was going to, at some point, have to relieve myself, my thoughts began to race. I’ll never be able to comfortably go in that small little bathroom. Even if I do, I’ll stink up the whole area and people will stare at me in disgust. I’ll be that guy who stunk up the entire airplane with his shit from hell. The large fellows next to me began to discuss the movie playing on the screen in front of them. I’m pretty sure I saw them even exchange numbers, no doubt to contact each other post-plane ride to meet up and watch the movie again in preparation for deeper discussion. Well I certainly can’t disrupt that! I will have ruined a potentially life-long friendship all because I have to poop. I closed my eyes and prayed that maybe, it would some how magically dissolve as I slept.

In my mind’s whirling mess of thoughts, I recalled the large order of nachos I’d had prior to boarding the plane. I had been feeling iffy about ordering food from a place called “La Mexican Comida” but I was starving and there was nowhere else that served food less than ten dollars an order! Now my cheapness was smacking me across the face in ridicule. The poop began to laugh at me and dance in the aisle. I could hear it singing a song and pointing at me “This guy right here took a big shit and made the plane smell bad. This guy right here took a big shit and made you all mad”. I slumped into my seat below the pull down tray, hoping nobody would see who the giant dancing poo was singing about.

I felt my body twitch and my knees hit the tray as my eyes opened with a jolt of fear. In the edge of my line of vision, I saw a stewardess come by asking one of the large men if he wanted a blanket or pillows. I peered around him and saw that his new friend was gone! He must have gotten up! Or maybe they had gotten into a fight while I was dozing off and he moved seats. Why he was gone was unimportant because this was my chance! I leapt at my opportunity and climbed over the man and head over to the most beautifully cramped room of relief in mankind.

As soon as I stepped into the aisle, the plane began to jerk violently. It was as if God saw me standing up to use the restroom, grabbed a hold of the plane, and shook it with extreme emotion in protest. The stewardess that had been talking to the man caught my gaze and we stared at each other with urgency and fear. (Me with urgency, her with fear). Just at that moment, the captain’s voice came over the static-y P.A. system: “Ladies and Gentlemen, we seem to be experiencing some extreme turbulence. The seatbelt ‘on’ sign is going to be illuminated until we are flying smoothly again. We will not be able to make any exceptions as the wind is much too strong. Thank you for your cooperation.”

I tried to wedge past the stumbling stewardess, against the captain’s request, to go to the bathroom. Luckily though, she stopped me. She sweetly told me it was a matter of safety and I could get hurt being jostled around in that tiny room. I may get more hurt if my ass explodes but thanks lady. I smiled at her and said I’d just wait then and watched her carefully side-step towards the cock pit. By this point, my mind was flooded with panic and I was nearly sweating from the workout of holding the massive crap inside of me. I squeezed past the large man again and sat uncomfortably in my seat, tapping my knee and trying to create the most perfect plan of pursuing the poop.

After about an hour of sweating from clenching my bum, I came up with a genius idea. Crawling. If I scooted myself along the floor on my stomach, nobody would see me on my way to the bathroom! It was almost too genius to work. Slowly but surely, I slumped down into my seat pretending to sleep. With one eye open, I checked that the large man was not watching me. He was fully invested in the Sky Mall magazine, there was terrific opportunity. I slid the rest of the way off of my seat and onto the floor.

Once on the ground, I needed to figure out a way to slide through the large fellow’s legs without him noticing me. While below the seat, I realized that there was space to crawl through other seats as well! Being that the large guy was awake, I decided to scoot my body along the stale peanut-covered carpet until I found a good place to slide into the aisle. Much to my advantage, a little girl whose legs barely reached the edge of her seat was sitting right behind where I had been sitting! I maneuvered my body directly under her chair and finally made it into the aisle.

Just as I was about to push myself along the carpet to the bathroom, I felt a stick of some sort whack me on the head. I looked up to find an old woman, of at least 80, with a manic expression and knitting needles in-hand staring down at me. “Young man! I saw you looking up that child’s skirt!” Everybody within earshot, which was everybody on the plane practically, looked at me. I tried my best to whisper an explanation to the woman but she couldn’t hear me and continued to smack me on the head with her knitting needles. Not knowing what to do, I frantically ran down the aisle, dodging dirty looks, towards the bathroom.

Luckily enough, there was no turbulence while I was in the room and my poop was rather peaceful, regardless of the commotion outside. Once finished, I mustered my strength and stepped out of the room calmly. A stewardess was waiting outside the restroom door and confronted me in the rear of the airplane. “Sir, we’ve had some complaints…” I stared at my feet “of you looking up a little girl’s skirt?” I tried to figure out a way to explain what had happened.

Before I got the chance to explain the situation to the stewardess, I was forced to slump to the cockpit to speak to the captain about my behavior. The captain was a jolly looking bearded guy who looked too old to be flying an air plane. He turned tilted his chin up at me and clicked his tongue. “Well, well, word on the plane is that YOU sir, are a pervert.” I stared at my feet again, becoming incredibly familiar with the shoes I was wearing. “Mr. Captain Sir, I can explain, I promise.” The captain raised his eyebrows at me and patted a seat next to him. “Well let’s hear it then. Come and sit.”

I went on to tell the captain all about the nachos from “La Mexican Comida” and the chummy men next to me and the old woman with the knitting needles and then finally being able to go to the bathroom. The captain laughed heartily for a good five minutes before he grinned at me and allowed me to return to my seat. On my way back towards the aisle, I heard the stewardess calling out to me. “The captain wanted you to have this.” She told me while stifling a laugh. She handed me a pin that read “I’ve been in the cockpit!” I thanked her sheepishly and shoved the pin into my pocket.

I walked down the aisle shamefully, still dodging glances of the other passengers. When I finally got back to my seat, the old woman was waiting for me. She slapped me. Hard. “You should be ashamed of yourself young man!” she continue to shout back to me as she shuffled to her seat. I tried to ignore her, thankful that at least people weren’t mad about my poop. I sat in my seat and tried to relax when the large men next to me began to get fidgety. One of them turned to the other and whispered “Do you smell that?!”